Tomorrow Belongs to Me
by E Apsenniel
Summary: Seto Kaiba is an acclaimed writer, travelling the world for inspiration. While in Egypt he meets just that: inspiration in the form of a crimsoned eyes dancer, who works at a Cabaret… Seto/Yami AU takes place in the 20's
1. A Lack of Inspiration

**Full Summary** – Seto Kaiba is a famous writer who has lost all of his inspiration. At the insistence of his younger brother, he makes a split second decision to travel the globe to regain it. While in Egypt he goes to a Cabaret nightclub and regains his muse in the form of a mysterious crimsoned eyed dancer with who immediately captures his heart. But of course, love is never that simple.

**Author's Note** – The idea for this is loosely based on the musical 'Cabaret', but will not follow its story line really, I'm just going to filch several ideas, and perhaps some lyrics from it. Also SETO KAIBA IS GAY. I never straight out say it (nor does he) but it is infered.

**Rating** – M for smut and mature themes

**Music For this Chapter** - A Lack of Inspiration by Golliwog

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**Chapter One – A Lack of Inspiration**_My lack of inspiration I need a control!  
Lack of motivation I need a control!  
I don't know what to do I don't know what to_

_A Lack of Inspiration, Golliwog_

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* * *

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Seto Kaiba tapped the end of his pen irritably against his paper. Nothing, nada, zilch, zero, and countless other words meaning nothing ran through his head. He had nothing, no knew ideas. He growled irritably, a fowl look twisting his handsome face. He only had three months to get a new idea for his latest book, and he had nothing. On the floor of his office, room, kitchen, living room, and even the bathroom, where crumpled pieces of paper. All notes that he refused to let the maid clean up; there could be something good on one of those sheets after all.

"Tch,"

"Are you all right, big brother?"

Seto jumped. He had not heard his younger brother, Mokuba Kaiba, come in. "Fine, Mokuba." Honestly, why wouldn't he be fine? He was, admittedly, irritable at his lack of progress, but he was perfectly fine otherwise.

Mokuba came further into the room, settling himself on the settee by the window. "You've been in the study all day Seto," he pointed out, looking at his elder brother with huge grey eyes.

"Hn"

Mokuba sighed internally; his brother was in one of his impossible moods again. Those were happening more and more as of late.

"So…" Mokuba started, casting around for something to say other than writing.

"No, I do not have any good ideas, Mokuba."

"Aw, I'm sure you have something Seto, you're the best writer in the world!" Mokuba put a finger to the corner of his mouth. "I know!"

"Now what, Mokuba," Seto sighed. He loved his brother dearly, but he was already on his last nerve, and though Mokuba could usually help, lately he was unable to.

"You should take a trip!"

"A trip?" Seto's voiced dripped with disdain. What went through that boy's head sometimes…

"Yeah!" By now Mokuba was bouncing up and down in his spot. "You know, travel the world, see knew things, meet people, and get inspiration,"

Mokuba had hit the golden word: Inspiration. But still, a man like Seto Kaiba couldn't simply get up one day and leave.

"I can't do that,"

"And why on earth not?"

Kaiba merely looked at his younger brother. Mokuba, once again, sighed at the elder's foolishness.

"Come on Seto! It will do you a world of good! I'm going back to school next week, so you'll be in the house all alone."

"Mokuba, the servants will be here," Seto pointed out, getting a glare from his brother in return.

"Seto, you are going on a trip!"

"No Mokuba, I am not." Seto Kaiba turned back to his papers, writing something down, before scribbling it out. "And that's final!"

Mokuba Kaiba glowered at his brothers back. _We'll see,_ he thought, _so far, there has been nothing that my pouting and bugging hasn't made you do._

_

* * *

_

Exactly one week later, the famous writer Seto Kaiba was standing at the docks, waiting for the ship that was to take him across the English Channel and into the European continent. His scowl deepened, and a tick appeared along his jaw. How on earth had Mokuba convinced him to go on this dratted trip again?

By pouting, God damn it!

Seto sighed, glancing up at the sky. Great, rain. _Well,_ he mused, _it is England_. _Rain is common. _His dark scowl twisted into a smirk. _The bright side of this trip will definitely be the lack of rain. _

"Loading! Have your tickets ready!"

Kaiba walking onto the ship, pleased that it was actually on time. It should be, after all, there weren't many people who could afford a ticket for a boat of this quality.

Finding his seat, he took out a notebook and fountain pen, intending to at least attempt to get some ideas down onto paper: that was before he sat down beside him.

"Hey mate!" Kaiba flinched mentally. "Where are you headed?"

"Hn"

The strange looking man pouted, white blond hair hanging on front of his tan face. "No need to be like that man, all I did was make some small talk."

Kaiba glared at him again, internally put out when the violet eyes man just pouted even more, if possible. Couldn't his guy take a hint?

"The name's Marik," he stated, an exotic accent colouring his words. "And you're that writer, right?" Marik snapped long fingers. "Seto Kaiba! That's it, you're Seto Kaiba."

"Yes, now will you beat it?"

"No can do, buck-a-roo," Marik grinned, showing extremely white teeth. Kaiba felt the need to put on sunglasses.

"Any why not, pray tell?"

"Cause I'm already sitting here and talking to you," he answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So, I ask again," he angled his slender body towards the obviously hostile Kaiba. "Where are you headed?"

Kaiba ignored the bubbly man, hoping that he would just get the hell away.

"I'm going back home, my sister is at Oxford right now, translating some tablet or something – I just went to visit her."

To his utter disgust, Seto found that his interest was piqued. "Oh?"

Marik's smile widened, knowing that he had caught the aloof man's interest. "She's translating some ancient Egyptian tablet that was recently found in some temple or something." He shrugged; "I just want to get back, I hate English weather!"

"You're from Egypt?"

"Yeah, born in a small town that isn't on any map, but now I live in Cairo. Fucking British tried to take all of Africa over, but Egypt is, and has been for millennia, just Egypt."

Kaiba raised an elegant eyebrow. This Marik seemed to change moods faster than Mokuba did on a bad day.

"Anyways," Marik drawled, once again in a good mood, "where are you heading?"

"No clue," Seto snapped shortly, not wanting to share any more than was absolutely necessary with this insane Egyptian.

Said insane Egyptian let out a high pitched sequel. "Come with me to Cairo!" Marik was now bouncing up and down in the plush seat. "I can show you around, you can see the Pyramids and the Sphinx and all of the other sites, and," here he paused dramatically, his voice dropping several octaves. "You can meet the Pharaoh, the most stunning person in the world, the God on earth, the inspiration," here he gestured shortly to Kaiba, "of writers and the fall of many a proud man." Marik sat back. "So," he inquired his voice once again at a normal level and tone. "Are you going to come to the Land of the Nile?"

Seto wanted to say No, he really did. But Marik had used the 'I' word, and now he was hooked. Oh well, he would be able to get some sun.

"Why not?"

* * *

Several days later Seto could finally say that he was used to the perpetually hyper Marik Ishtar. True, he would never actually like him, but he was tolerable, and did remind him of his younger brother in a way. (Though it would take an awful lot, like say apocalypse times several million, for him to even consider admitting that!)

"Come on Seto! We're at the station, we're in Cairo, I'm home, and you're on holiday!" Marik fell into helpless giggles, ignoring the glare Seto was giving him for saying his first name.

_I should have never told it to him_, he berated himself. _Oh well, what's done is done. _

Marik grabbed Seto's upper arm and proceeded to drag him through the busy terminal, and out into the equally busy street.

"Where going to my house," Marik said as he proceeded to drag Seto through the thoroughness of people with determination. "And tonight, I'm taking you to see the Pharaoh," Marik veered to the right, and Seto noticed that they seemed to have left the market area, and where coming to residential area.

"Where will I meet him?" Seto asked, curious, and not just a little nervous about the maniacal grin on his companions tan face.

"Why – at the Cabaret of course!"

Seto stopped dead. "You mean you convinced me to come to Egypt so that I could meet a prostitute!"

Marik nodded, hailing a cabby to take them to his villa. "Come on Seto," Kaiba once again growled under his breath at the use of his given name. "You're already come all the way to Egypt from England! And trust me," Kaiba snorted, allowing himself the leisure of rolling his eyes when Marik completely ignored his obvious disbelief at the idea of trusting him. "You won't regret meeting him."

The two 'friends', if you could call them that (and you could from Marik's side) got into the Cab, Kaiba content to ignore, and Marik content to chatter away aimlessly about all of the sites that they were passing. Kaiba did find it rather interesting though, once again, it would take a lot for him to admit that to the psychotic man. Kaiba sighed; this was going to be a painfully long day. The trip in its entirety? He shuddered to think about the mental scaring he was bound to have coming out of it. He should have just gone to France.

* * *

Several hours later Kaiba had been dragged on a whirlwind tour of Marik's Cairo Villa (it was stunning, though Kaiba had only grunted a quick 'nice') dragged to some sort of ethnic restaurant to eat (his ears smoking from all the spice) and then dragged back home to change so that he and Marik could go to the Cabaret nightclub.

The entrance to the nightclub had been in a rather derelict looking alleyway, in an area of Cairo that Seto Kaiba really hadn't wanted to have seen. Being a tourist was all about seeing the good parts of a city, not the bad! Down a flight of dodgy looking stairs and down a long corridor there had been a door. Then Marik had given what seemed to be the password for the night and he and Kaiba had passed into another world.

The Cabaret was outstanding. There was no other word for it. There were men lounging around gambling and talking and drinking with half dressed prostitutes draped all over them, gorgeous dancers enticing anyone who walked by them, and a huge stage swathed in red velvet. The male dancers were wearing low slung loose fitting pants that were tight at the ankles. They wore no shoes, though some of them had jewellery adorning their bodies. The pants were sheer, black, and all the men had on. Both the men and the women were covered in oil – their bodies glistening and glittering in the light of the club. The woman had on similar clothing, though in they also had a sheer short top and veil over their long hair. Both of the men and the woman had some sort of tattoo all over their bodies, painted in elegant designs.

Though they were all extraordinarily good looking (and Kaiba's member had twitched at the sight of several of the men dancing provocatively) none of them really caught his attention. No one ever did.

"Come on Seto!" Marik yelled into his ear. The blond was wearing loose-fitting grey pants and a billowy white shirt. Kaiba had been momentarily surprised when he had saw him; he had expected Marik to wear something more, well, suggestive to say the least. "Seto!" He shouted again, yanking on his arm. "The Pharaoh's about to start his routine!"

"He dances on the stage?"

Marik nodded, pulling Kaiba up a flight of iron stairs. "The best view is from right here; the top box!" Marik pushed Seto through some lush drapes, propelling him into a seat. Marik sat down more gracefully beside him.

Right on cue the light dimmed, and the music changed. As he watched below Kaiba could see all of the dancers below more off of the floor, and all of the men (and some women) turn to look anxiously at the front. The music was something slower, more traditional, and more seductive. Despite himself, he was exited. Even though this "Pharaoh" wasn't going to be all that he was cracked up to be the show was bound to be spectacular.

Something moved in the rafters. A swing of some sort was being lowered slowly to the stage floor. There was a lithe body standing on this swing, leaning (though how relaxed could he be, leaning on a rope swing?) too one side in a relaxed position. The man – no, the Pharaoh – was lowered more, his back now facing Seto. Seto could not stop staring at the man in front of his cobalt eyes.

The Pharaoh's skin was glistening as the other workers had been, though he seemed to glow with a rich golden light. His skin was a luscious tan, whipcord muscles well defined, though not to obvious. He had no paint adorning his body, only tight gold bracelets at his wrists, ankles, and neck. He was wearing what seemed to be a kilt made of the finest cream silk, with an overlay of some sheer gold fabric. From the back his hair seemed to be a mess of wild black, with a dark red colouring the tips.

Kaiba's breathing started to quicken, his eyes never moving from the still figure.

And he had only seen the Pharaoh's back!

And then the Pharaoh turned. Cobalt met crimson, and the entire world melted away

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	2. Life is a Cabaret

**Chapter Two – Life is a Cabaret**

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**Disclaimer - **I in no way own Yu-Gi-Oh, or the musical Cabaret.

**Author's Note**- Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! To the people that put me on alert, of favourited this fic, _please_ take the time to review. I mean, if you liked it enough to do say, can't you at least drop me a line telling me what you liked about it? *Ahem* Rant done now.

**Musical Inspiration**- The song that I imagine Atem to be dancing to is called Marco Polo, by Loreena McKennitt. I also pictured his dancing to be sort of like traditional belly dancing, though masculine. I recommend listening to the song while you read this chapter, or at least the dancing part of it. The songs pretty long though…you might be finished this chapter before the song ends!

Rating - Mature. There's not full on smut, but there is some semi-vivid flashbacks. Yes, I had them jump into bed with each other in the second chapter. What did you expect? Yami's a courtesan in this fic, it's his _job _to sleep with people! And of course I wanted Seto/Yami goodness!

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_Start by admitting  
From cradle to tomb  
Isn't that long a stay.  
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,  
Only a Cabaret, old chum,  
And I love a Cabaret!_

* * *

Seto couldn't breath, couldn't see anything other than the flawless being in from of him. Marik was in no way lying about the Pharaoh, in fact, he had downplayed the sheer beauty that the slender man held. The Pharaoh – for he truly looked as though he should be king of a great empire – was perfection embodied. His lips were full and a delectable wine red colour, his bone structure would make the most beautiful of models green with envy; his hair was wild, with streaks of blond shot through ebony. His body was even better from the front then it was from the back, perfectly proportioned and muscled.

And his eyes, oh his eyes! Seto had never seen eyes even come close to the exquisiteness of the Pharaoh's. In fact, he had never seen eyes of that hue before, or even of a similar colour. They were the colour of freshly spilt blood. A fiery crimson that burned with a blinding inner light.

And then the Pharaoh was lowered past his eye level, and then to the stage, and Seto could no longer see into his fathomless eyes. He could still see him perfectly though (Marik had been correct about the seats being the best in the house), so he settled back to watch the Pharaoh perform, ignoring the foreign ache in his chest.

The music sped up slightly, another instrument that Seto had no name for starting to play a mystical tune.

And then the Pharaoh started to dance.

His movements where smooth, seductive, powerful, hypnotic, and any other like adjective to describe perfect movement. He moved perfectly in time with the music, his hips rolling, his arms performing slow yet complex turns.

The music picked up speed yet again, a strong melody beginning, instead of the slower music of before. The Pharaoh's feet moved faster, his dancing grew more complex. His undulating body causing Kaiba to grow hot, his breathing to come faster and faster.

And suddenly the music slowed, a woman voice staring to sing, in a way. She spoke no words, yet it added so much to the song. The Pharaoh's dancing slowed again, yet somehow (and Seto had absolutely no clue how this was possible) became even more captivating. He moved in time to her voice, dancing closer to the edge of the stage, and towards the hoards of men watching his every move. All of the watchers had been absolutely silent as the music announcing the Pharaoh's dance had started, and that did not change now. It seemed as though a spell had been put over the entire Cabaret. Not one word was said, save for that of the woman singing out of view.

Suddenly she stopped, as did the music, and the Pharaoh. Then the music started again, fast past once again, albeit more so then before. The Pharaoh's movement now seemed less controlled, wilder, and somehow more passionate and sensual. Kaiba moved somewhat uncomfortably, his burgeoning erection starting to become painful.

And then the music stopped. The lights went out, and the entire crowd groaned in dismay. The Pharaoh had finished for the evening.

The lights where turned on again, and Seto's eyes widened comically. Right in front of him, barely an inch from his face, was a grinning Marik.

"You should see the look on your face!" He chuckled, amethyst eyes sparkling with mirth. He moved back to lean against the balcony, much to Seto's relief. "So," he drawled, eyes narrowing, and grin morphing into smirk. "I take it you, uh, _enjoyed_, the Pharaoh's performance?" His eyes moved downwards, looking meaningfully at Kaiba's now obvious erection. Kaiba scowled, causing Marik to erupt into giggles again. "I did to, mate," he gestured to his own. "I'm going to go and find a _friend_," he started to walk to the door, pausing underneath it, his face changing from that of a daft blond, to an observant man. "He will go to the third floor, which is only for the higher classes." Marik turned and started walking, before turning on his heel to regard a slightly shocked Seto Kaiba. "Here," he smirked, tossing a small chain to his friend. "You'll need this to get in." And with that, he disappeared.

Seto blinked owlishly. Maybe there was more to Marik then he had originally thought. He shook himself internally, standing in a smooth motion. Time to go and find the man who had captured him so completely.

* * *

Atem Saeed, the primary dancer (and primary source of revenue) in Egypt's most popular nightclub quickly put the finishing touches on his black kohl, scrutinizing his appearance critically, before reaching for his dark red eye shadow. He brushed some carefully up to the crease of his right eye, over the entire lid, and smudged some underneath, before doing the same to the other eye. Blinking, he reached for the other eye shadow, the dark gold that would go around the red, causing his crimson eyes to brighten from the colour of freshly spilt blood to the colour of flames. He personally preferred his eyes darker (as did many of his customers) but it made his eyes more noticeable as he danced upon the dimly lit stage. And that was all that mattered tonight.

"Now," he mumbled still searching for the gold. "Where did you…"

"Looking for this?"

Atem grinned, showing perfectly straight white teeth. "Give it here, Bakura," he scolded lightly. "I have to be on in three minutes!"

The handsome albino grinned, though he looked more like a hungry shark then a kind man. "Thank Ra," he claimed, tossing the small compact to the scowling man. "We get at least twice the amount of revenue when you perform."

Atem rolled his glowing eyes, deftly putting on the gold make-up. "That's all you think about, Kura. Money!"

The shark grin was back; "I also think of you, writhing underneath me, Scarlett. Screaming my name as you come."

"You're so lecherous," he sighed, slightly disturbed by the look he was getting from the older and larger man. "But as long as you pay, who am I to complain?"

"Exactly," Bakura smirked, pulling Atem to a standing position, and looking at him critically. "You look good enough to eat."

Atem smirked right back at him. "That's what we aim for though, isn't it?" He quipped as Bakura slung an arm around his slender shoulders and led him out the door and over to a narrow flight of winding cast-iron stairs.

"Of course, my dear Pharaoh, whatever brings in the money," Bakura nodded slightly to the blond man at the top of the stairs, who worked the swing that Atem would be lowered to the stage from. "But I must say," he leaned in close to the courtesan, his lips right next to the others ear, and whispered so quietly that even Atem himself could barely hear what was being said. "If you don't get any customers tonight – doubtful, I know – I'll eat you up myself, and then fuck your sweet little ass until you bleed."

And with that he was gone, leaving Atem alone with Joey, the technician.

"You alright mate?" Joey asked, his thick Irish accent washing over the shivering man.

Atem grinned lazily, walking over to the railing, and taking the hand that was offered to him. Joey, one of the only people who he could count as a true friend, helped him over the railing and onto his precarious perch on the swing.

"Of course I am," he claimed

Joey didn't exactly look convinced. "If you say so Atem," he called out as he walked over to the lever that would start to lower Atem to the waiting stage below. "Just be careful 'round him, alright? I don't like the way he looks at you."

He started the lever; not waiting for a response that he knew wasn't going to come.

Atem shook himself slightly, slipping into his character as the seductive Pharaoh. If Bakura wanted to fuck him, and he paid in some way (whether it by cash, a raise, or time-off, it didn't matter) he would sleep with the other man. It was, after all, his job. And in all honestly, he loved it. He loved being fucked by men (as long as they were good). He loved taking their cocks into his mouth, and hearing the moans that only he could create. He loved it when they would prepare him or better yet, the looks of pure lust on their faces as he prepared himself. He loved it when they would pull down their pants and fuck him without further ado. In fact, he had learned to lube himself slightly before he started for the night, just for that occurrence. He even loved fucking the occasional woman that paid for him. They were so much more vocal than the men he fucked, shrieking at every stroke; especially when he rubbed their clit and looked at them with his hooded Scarlet eyes. They would come on the spot.

Atem was lowered slowly, his face already prepared in a come hither expression to entice the people waiting below for him. There was not a sound in the theatre except for the familiar music playing; the beat slow, though Atem knew that soon it would speed up in a wild and passionate rhythm. Once he was completely in view, he turned, facing the other way, towards to balcony seats. These seats was were all of the rich viewers would sit, and they where who he really wanted to entice. They were always good in bed, most of them being stuck in a loveless marriage, and they always paid a lot. They would pay for everything, even if they knew that there was no way they could last through even a blowjob, or even watching him. They all liked to think they could though. Atem raised his eyes, looking to the seats.

Crimson met cobalt, and cobalt widened in shock.

Atem raised his eyebrows internally, keeping his seductive look firmly in place on his oiled face. He was new, and extremely good looking. The man had a no-nonsense air about him, along with an air of arrogance and superiority. His skin was milky white, and his features sharp and angular. He was obviously tall, and rather slender, despite the fact that he was sitting down. All in all, he was one of the most gorgeous men that Atem had ever seen; and he worked with beauty every day. And that's when it hit him. This man was the famous English writer, Seto Kaiba.

Atem allowed his eyes to shine more, a slight dare in their fiery depths, before he was lowered more, and eventually onto the stage.

Now he allowed himself a small smile. This was where he loved to be. On stage, the music all around him, surrounding him in its seductive beat. He moved to it without a care in the world, without a thought to the countless lustful and wondrous stares he was receiving. He moved completely in time to the music: stopping when it stopped, dancing along to the twist and turns of the notes, all would together in perfect harmony. His evening was certainly looking up now. There was no way that he was going to let Bakura, or anyone except for Seto Kaiba fuck him tonight. And he was sure he could get Kaiba, the look the brunet had given him was proof enough for that. All he needed to do was find him after his wild dance.

* * *

Seto Kaiba leaned against the marble wall, searching the crowd around him. In all honesty though, it wasn't much of a crowd. Only the rich could get in here, and only the best courtesans where allowed in. The poor people, and the newer, less experience courtesans remained on the lower level, their revelry providing background noise that mixed pleasantly with the small band in the corner of the elegant room.

"You look bored," a low voice with a exotic accent purred, startling him out of his musings. Kaiba looked over to the source of the (oh so attractive) voice, a biting remark ready on lips.

It was the Pharaoh. Seto swallowed his remark, his sneer changing into a smirk. "Now why would I be bored, your Majesty," he teased, searching the blood coloured eyes for some kind of clue as to what the other was feeling. He found nothing, except for perhaps wry amusement, and perhaps lust.

The Pharaoh laughed, more of a laughed aimed to seduce rather then amuse, at that comment. "Please," he smirked, showing even white teeth, his eyes glittering. "Call me Pharaoh."

Kaiba raised an elegant eyebrow, fighting inside to keep his cool demeanour. "Then you must call me…" He never got to finish his sentence, for a svelte hand rose, and one finger was brought across his thin lips.

"I know who you are, Seto Kaiba, but I think I prefer the name Dragon," his smirked changed to a seductive half smile, before he sensually licked his lips. "Don't you?"

"I know what you're trying to do," Seto said, hoping that the Pharaoh hadn't noticed his slight erection.

The Pharaoh looked up at him through half lidded eyes. "And what his that, my dear Dragon?"

"Seduce me"

Pharaoh laughed again, a deep, throaty arousing sound that went straight to Seto's groin. "So what if I am?" he whispered, moving close enough for Seto to feel the heat coming off of the petite man's body. He bit back a moan, but the Pharaoh noticed anyways, and grinned widely.

"You're in this room, so you can clearly afford me,"

"And what makes you think I want you?" Kaiba asked, barely maintain his façade in the face of the fire of the man in front of him.

Victory danced in those sublime eyes. "Why, Dragon, I didn't think you would be the type to lie."

Seto raised an impassive eyebrow. "Oh?"

Pharaoh reached out with a slender and cups Kaiba's suddenly hardened erection in a tan hand. This time Kaiba did not even attempt to contain his moan of ecstasy.

"I think this is proof enough."

Seto looked across the room suddenly, noticing for the first time that all the eyes in the room (except for several _busy_ groups) were trained on the two of them. He wrapped a possessive arm around the slight body of the 'Monarch', looking down at the bewitching creature he now held in his arms. "Yes, I do believe you are right." He pulled the Pharaoh to the door, before letting him take the lead, and pull him to a secluded room.

* * *

Hours later Seto was finally awake, watching the sun rise from his position on the bed. The Pharaoh was gone, having slipped out when he had finally fallen asleep. Seto remembered every breathy moan that the other had made, every groan, every shriek of pleasure. He remembered how the Pharaoh had looked when he had taken Seto's painfully hard erection in his mouth; playing with it skilfully, before swallowing his large girth complete. He remembered watching the Pharaoh start to prepare himself, fingers moving skilfully, outstanding eyes staying open and watchful.

Kaiba's sex stirred at the glorious memory, and he brought a hand down to stroke himself lethargically.

He had stopped the Pharaoh's preparations, taking over that delightful task himself. He groaned loudly at the memory, his hand speeding up as he hardened more.

The Pharaoh had been so tight, and so hot. Seto could have come violently again and again just by having one finger inside of that heat. But he had restrained himself. He had searched for that spot in the other's body, wanting to give his partner as much pleasure as possible.

When he had found said spot, the Pharaoh had screamed wordlessly, arching wantonly off of the silk sheets. He had been the most responsive lover he had ever had.

Kaiba's hand tightened and moved even faster, his breath coming in short gasps.

After preparing the Pharaoh, he hadn't been careful in his entry. He had slammed into him full force, nearly coming as he did so. He could barely remember what had happened next, his pleasure being too great. All he knew was that he wanted to see the Pharaoh again. Wanted to hear his moans, drink his seed, and watch his perfect face contort in lust. He wanted him more then he had ever wanted anybody before, and would ever want again.

Seto came violently all over his stomach, and lay panting on the bed.

He wanted to love the Pharaoh.

* * *

_What good is sitting alone in your room?  
Come hear the music play.  
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,  
Come to the Cabaret!_

* * *

**Author's Note**- There we go, chapter two finished! I hope that you all liked it. If you had any issues or questions, ask me please, it will help me improve my writing! Oh, and pretty please with Seto and Yami on top review!!!!

~Eruwaedhiel Apsenniel~


	3. Don't Tell Mama

**Chapter Three – Don't Tell Mama**

**Disclaimer **- I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, or any of the lyrics used.

**Warnings **- Semi non-con, slash, multiple pairings.

**Author's Note** - Sorry for the uber long wait! And also, this chapter is un-betad. Mine bailed on me, so if anyone has an intrest, drop me a line!

* * *

_Mama  
Doesn't even have an inkling  
That I'm working in a Nightclub  
In a pair of Lacy pants.  
So please, sir.  
If you run into my Mama,  
Don't reveal my indiscretion,  
Give a working girl a chance._

* * *

Atem slid out of the bed carefully, slipping out of the arms that held him close. Hissing slightly as he felt a cool breeze flow through the wind over his bare body he put on a robe that hung waiting for him by the door. This was his room; well, the room where he would take his customers if they weren't into being the main attraction for the night. It didn't matter if they were unattractive, if they were with him, they would be the main attraction.

_And this one was attractive_, he mused as he slipped out of the room, silent as a cat. Definitely attractive; with dark brown hair of silk, thin (and talented) lips, milky white skin, and the most extraordinary eyes Atem had ever seen – except for in photos. Seto Kaiba was one of the most attractive men he had ever seen, let alone slept with, and he saw beauty every day in his line of work.

_Well, he was definitely one of the best fuck's I've ever had_, he thought, smirking slightly; a twinkle in his crimson eyes. Seto had been gently – a rarity – and loving almost. That was strange to Atem; he was always 'loving' with anyone he slept with, but that was his job. Few of the men who paid him for his services wanted anything other then relief with someone other then their spouse.

As per usual, Atem had left the room early in the morning, so that his bed-partner would leave right when they woke up. _Although_, Atem thought, _I would not mind seeing him again. _

"So," a voiced drawled, startling Atem out of his thoughts. "How did it go with your writer friend?"

Atem jumped, whirling around to glare at the source of the voice. "Fine, Bakura," he let his blank expression turn into a mocking smile. "He was one of the best fuck's I've ever had."

Bakura grabbed him roughly by the arm, shoving his against the stone wall. "But not the best," he shook him roughly, pushing his painfully against him. "He wasn't the best you've ever had, right Atem?" Bakura groped his sides with cruel roaming hands, looking at Atem with cold brown eyes. He leaned in to kiss his captive, his lips gentle and deceptively kind, completely opposite of his molesting hands. He pulled back slightly, still holding Atem against the wall.

He smirked, licking his lips sensuously, ignoring the glare Atem was bestowing upon him. "I'm the best you're ever had, aren't I?" Bakura didn't wait for an answer; for he was already untying Atem's silken robe, and touching the supple flesh underneath. He bowed his head, licking and biting at the soft skin of his employee's collarbone. Atem groaned with a mixture pain and pleasure when Bakura probed his entrance roughly in some crude semblance of preparation. He should hate this, but he didn't.

Bakura groaned in his ear; "You're so fucking tight, Pharaoh. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."

And Bakura would, Atem knew. Whenever he had had a good looking client, someone that Bakura thought he should be wary of, least they take Atem away, he would do this. It was how he, secured his investments, per say. It was how he made sure that Atem would never leave. Bakura would never seriously injure him; only some slight tearing, and some bruising around him wrists, hips, and perhaps his neck. It was nothing to him; there were clients who were worse, who left him broken and bleeding; unable to work for days.

But Bakura always took care of those men. They would have to pay with all they had, and would never be permitted to come back to the Cabaret. Bakura may be cruel; but he took care of what he considered to be his.

And Atem was his, had been for years. Bakura had found him in the alley where the entrance to the Cabaret was hidden. A small, sickly man/child, covered in blood and semen. At first, the doctors had said that there was no way that the boy would be able to live, let alone regain consciousness, but the boy surprised them all, when he not only regained consciousness, but started to heal.

The doctors had called it a miracle. Bakura had smiled a smile of genuine joy for the first time in years.

Bakura had dismissed the doctors, and nursed the boy back to health with the help of an Irish Stage hand, Joey. However, even when the boy was physically better, there were still some other issues; mental issues.

The boy could not remember anything from his former life; save for his name. Atem.

Bakura has given his a last name, Saeed, and had papers made up for him. Bakura had saved him, taken care of him, and given him a new life.

Atem had always been an extremely beautiful child, but when he was found he had been all skin, bones, and a patchwork of bruises and cuts. Joey had been known to say that he looked like a fallen angel, lying in a pool of his own blood. Bakura always rolled his eyes when this was said, but he could not deny that Atem had the look of an angel.

Until, that is, he opened his eyes. A vortex of crimson, looking for all the world like the lake of blood that he was found in. And really, what angel would have eyes the colour of spilt blood?

"I'm going to fuck you raw, my little Pharaoh," Bakura said, aligning himself with the smaller man's entrance. Atem gripped Bakura's shoulders tightly, digging his nails into the soft skin.

"I know you are," he said in reply, pushing himself harshly onto the others erection, shocking the older man.

"God," Bakura gasped. "You haven't done that in a long time." He smirked, "Not that I'm complaining." He pulled out nearly completely, shoving back in harshly again and again. Atem's grip on the other's shoulders was now sting enough to draw blood. Bakura's grip on his hips was equally as harsh.

"I'm going to cum, Kura," Atem muttered, breathing harshly into the others ear as his body tensed. His back arched with pleasure, his head hitting the wall being him with a dull thud.

"Then cum," Bakura growled, shoving Atem harder against the wall, his back scratching against the stone.

Atem came, screaming nonsensical words. Bakura was right behind him, the tightening of the other's channel enough to make him completely and utterly lose control.

Atem's legs were wrapped limply around Bakura's waist, his spiky head in the crook of the other's neck.

"Fuck," Bakura said with not a little awe in his voice. "That is why you're the money maker of this place."

Atem let out a ragged chuckle. "Don't you know it," he teased. "Now let go of me, and get out of me Kura, I want to go and clean up."

Bakura did as he asked, smirking when he saw Atem's wince as he withdrew. "Take a break tonight, pretty, you're going to need some time to heal."

Atem glared, one elegant eyebrow raised. "But how can sex be fun if it isn't rough?"

Bakura chuckled as the slight man walked down the hall, his limp barely discernable.

* * *

Seto walked aimlessly through a colourful Egyptian market. He had absolutely no clue where he was, and was quite content to keep it that way. He was conflicted. Seto thought that he knew himself well, but after last night, and this morning, he wasn't so sure anymore. He had taken many different lovers in the past, some of them whores, and some of them people who were desperate to be with the Seto Kaiba, but never had he felt any lasting feelings for them – especially when he had only been with them once!

Kaiba sighed, before turning abruptly in the opposite direction.

He would go back to the Cabaret tonight.

* * *

**Author's Note** - Yes, I am aware that this is painfully short. However, this is more of a filler chapter, with some background on Atem. I can promis you that the next installment will be considerably longer. Also, I rewote this chapter five times, and still am not quite happy with it. So therefore I just decided to uplaod this, to give eveyone a new chapter to read. PLEASE REVIEW!!! And also, all you people who have added this story to alert or favourites, can you do me the favour of reviewing? I mean shesh! You like the story, but you can't be bothered to tell me?


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